The Princess (Scandalous Heroines)

The Princess

Scandalous Heroines series

Jasmine Cresswell

"Ms. Cresswell always creates marvelous romantic tension to keep the readers' eyes

glued to the page!" — Romantic Times

A master craftsman who never fails to please her readers! — Romantic Times

Copyright 1982 by Jasmine Cresswell

Digitally published by Jasmine Cresswell at Smashwords, 2015

Cover design by Tammy Seidick Design

EBook design by A Thirsty Mind Book Design

All rights reserved. No part of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, may be reproduced in any form by any means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Excerpt: The Devil’s Envoy

Other Titles

Meet Jasmine Cresswell

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by Jasmine Cresswell

Scandalous Heroines

Empire of the Heart

The Devil’s Envoy

The Princess

Time Travel Romance

Timeless

To Catch the Wind

Prince of the Night

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Chapter One

The castle dungeons of Prince Franz Johann, Innesbad, May 1849

Prince Franz Johann nodded to the guards who surrounded him and ordered one of the soldiers to unbar the iron door to the cell. Fetid air rushed out and the prince gagged. Lights! he commanded, pressing a white linen handkerchief to his nose.

A soldier touched his taper to the oil-lamp hung by the door and the interior of the cell was illuminated by a flickering yellow glow. Even in that smoky light, it was possible to see that the cell walls seeped moisture and the only brightness came from a vivid green fungus growing in patches over the stone floor.

Straw rustled and the prince’s gaze fixed with reluctant fascination on the tall, skeletal figure that rose from a pallet pushed into one corner of the cell.

Why, little brother, I am honored. The prisoner’s voice was darkened by mockery. "You have come to inquire about my well-being again."

Prince Franz Johann was not blessed with superior powers of empathy, but even he could detect his prisoner’s contempt. His pallid complexion flushed hot with anger. Tell me where you have hidden the papers and you shall go free.

The man laughed softly. Come, little brother, you cannot expect me to believe such an unlikely promise. We both know I will be dead within five minutes of the documents being in your hands.

The prince spoke through clenched teeth. You have my word that you will go free.

The prisoner laughed again. The quiet, derisive sound echoed against the damp stonewalls, then faded into silence. He didn’t bother to make any other response to Franz Johann’s offer.

Damn you to hell! I shall have my father’s mad scrawlings if you rot here for ever!

The man shrugged. We shall see... little brother.

Do not call me that!

Am I inaccurate?

You are the younger, not I! You are not even my true brother.

The prisoner bowed. I beg your pardon, Your Highness. The exquisitely polite words were a subtle insult of their own. I referred not to our comparative age, but to our different heights.

Franz Johann realized he had raised himself onto his toes. Infuriated, he returned his heels to the floor. Chain him up! he screamed to the guards. His hands as well as his feet!

He watched, recovering some of his composure as the soldiers locked iron cuffs over the prisoner’s wrists and ankles. The short, heavy chains left almost no range of motion and offered some balm to the prince’s wounded pride.

You have seven days to change your mind. Franz Johann’s entire body vibrated with the effort of appearing calm. My patience will last no longer, I warn you.

Sadly, my dear little brother, seven days may be too long....

You will agree to talk before then? Franz Johann could not conceal his eagerness.

Alas, no. However, unless Your Highness improves the cuisine in this noble establishment, I fear you may be deprived of the supreme pleasure of ordering my execution.

Franz Johann snatched a torch from one of the guards and held it high. The prisoner closed his eyes against the bright light, which revealed a face gaunt with starvation. His skin, visible through the tatters of his shirt, was bruised and bleeding from unhealed wounds.

The Prince turned away. Keep him alive! He may have a blanket. And feed him — give him fresh water, bread and cheese. He flung out the commands as he thrust the torch back into the hands of the nearest soldier.

What are you waiting for? he yelled at the captain. Can’t you see that I’m ready to leave?

The soldiers reformed themselves into an elaborate guard of honor, scarlet uniforms glowing in the torchlight. Franz Johann strutted at the head of the procession as commandingly as his short legs permitted. The cell door clanged shut.

The prisoner was once again alone in the darkness.

Chapter Two

The Royal Palace, The capital city of Carlsburg, Carthia, May 1849

The Dowager Grand Duchess of Carthia inspected her granddaughter’s appearance with a steady gaze.

You may sit, Anna Teresa. The Dowager’s voice sounded cool but she turned her head abruptly and stared out of the arched palace windows so that she could conceal the hint of sympathy that had crept into her eyes.

You look charming, my dear, she said as her granddaughter sank onto a small, gilded chair. She noted with approval that the blue silk of Anna Teresa’ skirt fell in graceful folds around her, despite the cumbersome hoops. Your new ball gown is perfect for this important occasion and the color is most flattering. Your mother may be English, but she has exquisite taste in clothes.

I’m happy that you approve, Grandmamma. I certainly wouldn’t want to offend the Austrian generals by wearing something inappropriate. They have such delightful manners and their tastes are so refined. Princess Anna Teresa, eldest daughter of the reigning Grand Duke of Carthia, made no effort to disguise her sarcasm.

What the generals lack in elegance, they more than make up for in weapons, the Dowager said sharply. Moreover, they do not hesitate to use those weapons. You would do well to keep that in mind.

How could I forget the Austrian eagerness to resort to violence? You may recall that I was trapped in the summer palace last year and had to watch an Austrian colonel put an entire village to the torch just because the peasants posted a sign asking the Grand Duke to repair the toll road.

The villagers should have realized there is a price to pay for treason.

Anna knew better than to debate what, exactly, had been treasonous about the peasants’ wish to have the Grand Duke order repairs to a road that was no longer passable when it rained. She decided to focus on one battle at a time and leaned forward, hands outstretched in supplication.

Please ask Papa if I may be excused from attending the ball, Grandmamma. It is almost impossible for me to conceal my dislike of General von Ritter and his entourage. That cannot be a good thing for our duchy.

You have been trained since birth to express only such feelings as are appropriate. I expect you to employ the skills you have been taught and display warmth and courtesy to our Austrian guests.

Anna sighed. She knew everyone at court would agree with her grandmother and yet she couldn’t shake the conviction that her father ought to have found a way to end the rebellion that didn’t involve calling in Austrian troops to defeat Carthian subjects. It was Franz Joseph, her cousin and unwelcome fiancé, who had insisted that negotiation with the rebels would be impossible given the alliance forged by the peasants with the revolutionaries at the university. Franz Joseph was of the firm opinion that students should not have political opinions and peasants should remain in their fields. And, of course, neither students nor peasants should make tiresome demands of their betters.

The Dowager’s voice softened a little. My dear, face reality. Without the aid of the Austrians, the Duchy would by now be a republic. After four hundred years of devoted service, our noble family would have been banished from Carthia for ever.

I don’t believe the peasants would have forced my father to abdicate. They were asking for a few reasonable changes to our laws, that’s all. They weren’t calling for the overthrow of our government.

What starts out as a mild request for change usually transforms into violent demands for overthrow.

Anna shook her head. Not here in Carthia. You’ve seen the peasants when we drive into the countryside, Grandmamma. They always line our route and they wave and cheer and toss wild flowers at our carriage. They love my father.

The Dowager’s laugh was entirely cynical. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug that spoke clearly of her French origins. Oh yes, the peasants love the Grand Duke — just as much as the Paris mob loved the King of France before they imprisoned him along with his entire family. They love him as much as the peasants on my family’s estates loved my father when they condemned him to death as a traitor to the French Republic. How they cheered as the blade of the guillotine fell on his noble neck! What good sport it all was! Did you know that one of their so-called leaders held me up to make sure I would see my father’s head roll away from his body, right into the basket they had thoughtfully provided? I was ten years old at the time and learned well the lesson of how much the peasants love members of the nobility.

Anna placed her hand gently over her grandmother’s, horrified by a story she had previously heard only in sketchiest outline. I am thoughtless, Grandmamma. Forgive me, please. I am deeply sorry to have stirred up such bitter memories.

The Dowager regained her composure. Just remember that there can never be true affection between those who rule and those who are ruled, my child. The most we can hope for is the occasional shared interest in repelling a foreign aggressor.

Is that always true, Grandmamma? Not everywhere, surely. The English love Queen Victoria and her family. Mama told me so and my governess, too.

The Dowager refrained from commenting on the unfortunate tendency of her daughter-in-law to idealize the lower orders of English society. Instead, she aimed her criticism at the governess. Miss Frobisher was a silly English spinster and she has a great deal to answer for, she said. She stuffed your head full of romantic nonsense about the nobility of democracy and then died of influenza before she needed to deal with the consequences of your misguided ideas. Instead of wasting my time discussing Queen Victoria, I shall take this opportunity to point out that your father is announcing your betrothal tonight. Even you must recognize that you cannot avoid a ball that is being given in your honor.

Perhaps my father could make the announcement next week, after the Austrians have gone back to Vienna? To be honest, I don’t understand the urgency. Two days ago, nobody had mentioned my betrothal. Now everyone wants me married within the month. Why?

The Dowager shook her head in irritation. It is precisely because the Emperor himself has approved this match that we must announce it tonight, when his delegates are here.

Anna noticed that her grandmother had answered only part of her question. She had provided no real explanation for the sudden sense of urgency. It’s bad enough that I must marry my cousin, she said. It’s even worse that I must sit beside him all night and look as if I’m enjoying it. She jumped up from the chair and whirled passionately around the room, her skirts swirling up to reveal shapely silk-clad ankles and an indiscreet six inches of lace petticoat.

He is a toad, she said fiercely.

The Dowager made no effort to defend her grandson. She merely lifted her shoulders in another exquisite shrug. He is, however, the toad whom you will marry.

Why me? Anna asked. Why not one of my cousins on my mother’s side of the family? Some of them would be more than happy to marry the heir to the throne regardless of his personal qualities. It is clear that Franz Johann has no special regard for me. In fact, he often looks at me with something close to dislike.

You are the eldest daughter of the reigning Grand Duke, a Grand Duke who, sadly, has no sons. It is entirely apparent why Franz Johann prefers to marry you rather than one of your cousins.

"Ah, it is as I suspected. It’s not actually me Franz Johann wants, it’s my money and my rank within the family."

Of course. The Dowager saw no reason to excuse the obvious. He also wants the lands near his that form part of your dowry.

You have provided a crystal clear picture of what my cousin wants from his marriage to me: money and land. I still do not understand what my father gains in return.

He gains quite a lot. Not least, an ideal internal alliance that has the approval of the Austrian Emperor himself and should help to stabilize the country. Besides, Franz Johann helped your father crush the revolution last year and we owe him a debt. It is the best possible arrangement, my dear. Your marriage will unite the elder son and elder daughter of the two greatest Carthian families, as well as the western and eastern regions of our country. The match makes every sort of political and financial sense.

Anna sank back down onto the gilded chair, pushing away objections that she realized would sound somewhere between petulant and silly if she gave them voice. In truth, she was still in a state of shock and had less control over herself than usual. She had been unprepared for her father’s summons yesterday and dumbfounded by the curt announcement that she was to marry Prince Franz Johann. Her efforts to wriggle out of the engagement seemed childish when set against the background of Carthia’s precarious political situation, but even a lifetime of anticipating a marriage arranged to benefit the duchy couldn’t reconcile her to this particular betrothal. She had loathed Franz Johann since she spent a childhood summer at his castle and witnessed his unfailing cruelty toward his servants. Coming of age and taking up his inheritance didn’t seem to have improved his character. How would she endure a lifetime as the wife of a man she both feared and despised?

It is lowering to think that I am being awarded as the prize for Franz Johann sending my father a brigade of soldiers who were even more brutal than the Austrians, she said.

Be thankful that the Austrian Emperor has persuaded Franz Johann to take you. Let us hope he finds you... desirable... even if he may not like you particularly well.

Being found desirable would only make the situation worse, Anna thought morosely. Prince Franz Johann joining her in the royal marriage bed was a horror she didn’t want to contemplate. I cannot bear the thought that I must be the mother of Franz Johann’s children. His eyes bulge and his hands sweat and he talks only of horses and his army.

You speak of my grandson and the heir to the throne of this duchy, Anna Teresa. Guard your tongue.

She flushed. I am sorry, Grandmamma. It was disrespectful of me to speak so. Perhaps that is the real problem—I am at fault, not the prince. I am not a suitable bride for Franz Johann, despite the efforts you and my parents have made to train me for my role as an obedient wife.

You have been indulged, Anna Teresa, and the fact that your mother is English means that you have a difficult time separating wishful thinking from hard political reality. The Dowager fell silent for a moment then decided this was a moment for honesty.

There is more at stake here than you have been told, Anna. For a time during the rebellion last year it seemed likely that the Austrians would depose your father and install Prince Franz Johann in his place. Your marriage puts an end to such talk. Thus your feelings toward the prince cannot be considered. He is willing to marry you and unite the country. We must be grateful for that.

Anna unknotted her clenched fingers, ashamed of her selfishness when so much was at stake. I did not know that the Austrians had threatened to depose Papa. She gave a wry smile. You have supplied me with yet another reason to dislike them, Grandmamma.

The Dowager’s glance softened as it rested upon the chestnut gleam of her granddaughter’s curls. Tolerate Franz Johann as best you can for a few years, Anna. Give him two or three children and then you may find yourself as charming a lover as you wish. When you have birthed two sons, I will take you to Paris myself and there you will have no trouble discovering what it means to love and be loved with true passion.

Anna shook her head. I have never yearned for a dashing lover or lasting passion, despite your claim that I am a romantic. I just want to marry a man with whom I might feel at ease. I never expected to fall madly in love with the husband chosen for me, but I always assumed that I would like him, at least a little bit.

Liking, friendship, companionship... those are qualities for the bourgeoisie, Anna. They have no more to do with the marriage of a royal princess than love. Marriage to Franz Johann is your duty and there is nothing more to be said.

Anna knelt at her grandmother’s side. I do understand Grandmamma. It’s just... I can’t bear it when my cousin touches me. How do I learn to endure his embrace? Last night, when Papa informed me of the betrothal, Franz Johann kissed me. It was like being kissed by a dead codfish. Cold and slimy.

The Dowager reached out a comforting hand and then withdrew it. She gave Anna a brisk pat on the head. Sadly, she could not afford to offer sympathy even though she understood why Anna was so repelled by the prospect of this marriage. She had no idea how her noble bloodlines had given rise to a grandson as cunning and potentially treacherous as Franz Johann, but she blamed it all on Franz Johann’s mother. Be that as it may, her son and the woman he married had produced the snake that was Franz Johann. Now, alas, there was nothing to be done except contain the snake as best they might contrive.

She gave Anna’s hand a final squeeze. Your cousin may look like a toad and kiss like a cod but he is the heir to the throne and our duchy has need of a strong leader. Your father could not govern at this moment without Franz Johann’s support and you are old enough to accept that fact now and behave accordingly.

The Dowager rose to her feet and walked with imperious steps toward the huge marble fireplace that dominated her private sitting room. "I have allowed you to talk a great deal of nonsense, because you are my favorite grandchild. Heaven knows why I indulge you, since this is not the moment for childish tantrums. Despite your claims otherwise, you are stubborn and romantic and very naïve, a trinity of unfortunate qualities. However, the time for indulging your nonsense is now past. I shall simply remind you of your duty to your family and to the people of Carthia. You will marry Franz Johann. You will smile whenever you are with him in public. You do not have to enjoy your cousin’s embraces, Anna. You have merely to endure them. It is a small price to pay for the security of our country."

Anna wondered how anyone, even a princess, became resigned to living with a man who was cruel, brutal, and kissed like a codfish. She made one last desperate plea. Is there nobody else I could marry? Count Otto has important estates and my second cousin Bertram is now widowed and very rich. Perhaps that would be an effective alliance? Please, grandmamma, Papa listens to you. Free me from Franz Johann.

Enough. For the first time, the Dowager looked and sounded truly angry. My grandson has honored you with a proposal of marriage. Your father approves. The Austrian Emperor has given his blessing. Prince Franz Johann is prepared to sacrifice his own preferences in order to make the most expedient... the best... marriage for his country. You are a princess and you have been trained since birth to make exactly the same sacrifice. Accept the fact that you will marry your cousin with all possible speed. I have nothing more to say upon the matter. You are dismissed.

Chapter Three

The Grand Duke Frederick, ruler of the Duchy of Carthia, stood in the center of the Small Salon, a vaulted chamber badly misnamed since it was not an inch less than forty feet long and well over eighteen feet high. The Duke’s shoulders slumped with fatigue, Anna noticed, but his lined face looked more relaxed than it had for months.

Compassion surged within her, tinged with guilt. She hardly knew her father, having seen him only on state occasions since she left the schoolroom three years previously. Before that, she had seen him even less frequently. However, she knew the past two years had been brutally difficult for him, as they had been for all the other reigning monarchs in Central Europe. Now that he had finally crushed the revolution, begun in 1847, she knew it was reasonable that he should expect her to play a role in restoring order to their restless country. She would soon celebrate her twenty-first birthday and she was well aware that if not for the turmoil caused by the past two years of fighting, she would already have been married. Until now, she had been grateful for her extra years of freedom, although she wished the cause of her single state had been something less horrific than a civil war. Now she regretted that she hadn’t been married off to some agreeable Carthian nobleman before the revolution. There were plenty of pleasant counts and barons among the courtiers, and almost anyone would have been better than Franz Johann.

Anna felt her cousin’s cold fish eyes resting upon her and she forced herself to smile. Her grandmother was right, of course. It was her inescapable duty to marry Franz Johann so she might as well stop dreaming of might-have-beens. Her father had made the formal announcement two hours ago and there would be no escape from the marriage. General von Ritter, commander of the Austrian troops, was carrying official notification of her betrothal back to the Emperor and the wedding would be solemnized exactly twenty-seven days from now. Her fifteen-year old sister, Louise, was already making excited plans for her role as maid of honor, giddy with delight that she might be permitted to dance in public for the first time. At least somebody she loved was happy, Anna thought ruefully.

She could feel the moist heat of her cousin’s palm pressing against the back of her glove but she managed to suffer it. She even contrived another dutiful smile. From now on, this would be her life, and she must find ways to make it bearable.

The Grand Duke cleared his throat, interrupting the depressing drift of Anna’s thoughts. He inclined his head toward his nephew. That was a successful evening, I believe. Anna Teresa, you behaved with becoming dignity and I could see that our Austrian guests were impressed. It is good to know that your betrothal to Franz Johann has received the Emperor’s official approval. There need be no further delays in moving forward with our plans for the ceremony.

I am all eagerness for the happy day when Princess Anna Teresa becomes my bride. As always, Franz Johann’s soft voice sent a shudder of revulsion down Anna’s spine. She was really going to have to work on that over the next twenty-seven days. Liking might be impossible, but indifference should be attainable.

Nevertheless, I am glad our guests have departed for Vienna, Franz Johann continued. We do not wish the Emperor’s officers to become a permanent fixture in our midst.

The Grand Duke nodded. Quite right, quite right. We don’t want the Austrians here. Not at all the thing. The peasants don’t like them, for one thing. Unreasonable people, peasants. Best not to upset them.

Anna looked at her father with some astonishment. Did he always sound so eager—fawning almost—to agree with Franz Johann? Surely not? Or was she suddenly seeing and listening with more attention? She knew that her father relied on Franz Johann’s counsel but this was the first time she had realized he might feel compelled to agree with that counsel, regardless of his own opinions.

The Grand Duke turned to his wife, his smile becoming much warmer. The Duchess is fatigued, he said. The Austrians stayed later than we expected. As you know, Franz Johann, my wife and I are leaving soon after dawn to spend a week at our hunting lodge. The Duchess needs to rest and I am confident I can leave matters of state in your capable hands while we are gone. The crises are all in the past, are they not?

Indeed, let us hope. Franz Johann’s protuberant eyes gleamed with sudden speculation. I am sorry to hear that the Grand Duchess is fatigued. She is well, I trust?

There was a slight pause before the Duke replied. I have most unexpected and joyful news to share. The Grand Duchess... my dear wife... is in a delicate condition. We anticipate a happy event early in October.

A happy event? You mean my mother is to have a baby? Anna’s astonishment overcame her discretion. Her gaze slid to the general region of the Grand Duchess’s abdomen but even though Anna was now actively searching, she could see no trace of her mother’s pregnancy beneath the expert cut of the Duchess’s voluminous evening gown.

A happy event in October? Franz Johann repeated. My goodness, that is not even five months from now. His cheeks were flushed as he bowed in the direction of the Grand Duchess. What a very unexpected piece of news to be sure. But all the more welcome because we could not have anticipated it. I offer you both my heartiest felicitations.

Thank you. The Grand Duchess looked tired, but there was also a glow of happiness surrounding her. The news is exactly as you say: something we could not imagine, but nevertheless a circumstance that brings us much joy.

I should have noticed the change in Mama, Anna thought. She looks so happy. She has looked happy for weeks now.

Franz Johann grasped the Grand Duke’s hand and shook it vigorously. You must take the greatest care of your Duchess, sir. You must not run any risks that might jeopardize the safe delivery of a son and heir.

Well, of course, the child may be a girl. After all, we have two daughters already. The Duke suddenly